He waited.
The Older Sister hated him for waiting.
“Say it like you mean it.”
She stepped toward him.
“I want you to leave me alone.”
The Cowboy looked at her eyes.
Then at her mouth.
“Still don’t believe you.”
Her anger rose.
“Arrogant.”
“Probably.”
“You know nothing about me.”
“I know you work until your hands bleed.”
“That you pretend hunger is not hunger.”
“That you look at your sister before deciding anything because half your decisions are made for her.”
The Older Sister went still.
He continued.
“I know you stand between trouble and everyone you love.”
“And I know you hate me because I make you wonder what happens if somebody stands there with you.”
Her chest tightened painfully.
She whispered:
“You think you know too much.”
The Cowboy moved closer.
“Maybe.”
She should have stepped back.
Did not.
His hand lifted.
Slowly.
Giving her time.
He touched one loose strand of hair beside her cheek.
The Older Sister caught his wrist.
His skin was warm.
“Do not mistake gratitude for permission to touch me.”
The Cowboy’s eyes stayed on hers.
“Then let go.”
She did not.
The distance between them was less than a foot.
His voice lowered.
“Tell me to ride.”
The Older Sister tightened her grip.
“Stay tonight.”
The Cowboy’s mouth curved.
“That isn’t the same thing.”
“Barn.”
“Of course.”
“If you come near my bedroom door—”
“You’ll shoot me?”
“No.”
“What then?”
Her eyes dropped.
Then returned.
“You’ll regret it.”
The Cowboy slowly rotated his hand inside her grip.
His thumb brushed the center of her palm.
The touch was tiny.
Her body reacted as if it were not.
Her breath stopped.
His voice became almost a whisper.
“You’d better stop looking at me like you hope I forget where the barn is.”
The Older Sister released him.
Immediately.
The Cowboy smiled.
She wanted to slap the smile away.
Or kiss it.
That frightened her enough to walk inside.
The trouble arrived two days later.
Three riders.
The man in front wore a black coat despite the heat.
The Neighboring Landowner.
He owned land south of theirs.
More acreage.
More cattle.
More money.
He had been trying to buy the sisters’ ranch for three years.
Their father refused.
After his death, the offers became cheaper.
Then more insulting.
The Older Sister stepped onto the porch.
The Cowboy remained near the well.
The Younger Sister stood in the doorway.
The Neighboring Landowner smiled.
“Heard you took in a drifter.”
The Older Sister’s jaw tightened.
“Heard you still confuse gossip with business.”
His smile thinned.
He dismounted.
The two hired riders stayed mounted.
The Neighboring Landowner looked toward the Cowboy.
“You fixing fences now?”
The Cowboy said nothing.
The man turned back.
“I came about the property.”
“No.”